


❛ there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live ❜

by thehyades



Series: Marion [2]
Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Domestic Fluff, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-War, bc the woman in that photo was scho's sister and i won't hear anything else, they deserve a happy soft epilogue after all they have been through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehyades/pseuds/thehyades
Summary: ❛❛ She has a jolt of deja-vu then, of Lawrence sending that look her way on their wedding day, of Joe sending that her look whenever he visits her. The ache in her heart returns and for the umpteenth time, she ponders the exact nature of her brother’s relationship with Thomas Blake. ❜❜Or five times Schofield's sister pondered the nature of his relationship with Blake and one time she finally understood.
Relationships: Joseph Blake/Original Female Character(s), Tom Blake/William Schofield
Series: Marion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660747
Comments: 11
Kudos: 152





	❛ there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live ❜

**Author's Note:**

> this is a followup to 'grenadine sunshine'. so i'm super into the idea of scho's older sister and i need you to indulge me yeah? title is from 'cinnamon girl' by my wife lana del rey. and jodie comer as scho's sister face claim.

In the midst of war, he found love. What kind of love she isn't certain but he’s here now, she has time to figure it out. Whatever kind, it doesn’t matter, she could burst with happiness for him.

**o n e**

“They’re quite close, aren’t they?” Marion asks Joe one day as they picnic in Hyde Park. 

It’s a lovely, Summer’s afternoon, the sky is clear and the sun warms the busy city, calling everyone out to bask in its light. 

Marion and Joe sit on a tartan blanket under a great oak tree that swaddles them in its cooling shade. The twins are playing tag at the bottom of hill and on the pristine lake, Marion can see Tom and Will in one of the row boats. Tom lounges on one end, soaking in the sun with a hat over his face as Will rows them along on the other end. It is a perfect painting of peace and contentment and she feels that familiar burst of heartache when she looks at Tom and Will. Something about them feels profound. Heartrending, as if she is witnessing the happy outcome to a tragic journey. 

“Who?” Joe asks, pulling a few grapes from the pile on the plate.

“Tom and Will,” Marion says as she watches them on the lake. 

“Yes, well, they’ve been through a lot together,” he says.

She knows. She can see it in their eyes. She can see it in Will’s more than anything. There is a part of him that will never leave the battlefield and a part of her mourns for him. The world has been in mourning since the war finished and she feels as if this grief will pass through the generations. Since returning neither Joe, Tom or Will talk about their days in the war. They seem to treat it like a bad dream. She doesn’t blame them.

Marion rests her head on Joe’s lap and keeps her gaze on the boat. Joe brushes an eyelash off her cheek and starts running his fingers through her hair. Will nudges Tom’s leg with the toe of his boot and Tom startles awake. The boat shakes and they almost go over but Will catches Tom and they remain stable. The war, she realises, will never leave any of them. Tom holds onto Will’s shoulders, staring at him with wide eyes before they burst out laughing.Marion smiles.

**t w o**

During the war, Marion writes to Will often and less often, he writes to her. She tells him of life at home in his absence, of the weariness in everyone’s bones, of the government introducing rationing, of her twin daughters and how they miss him and keep asking for his return, of her breathtaking grief upon her husband’s death in Verdun. 

Will doesn’t tell her much about life in the Western Front and when he does it makes her feel sick with worry. He mentions the rotten state of the trenches, the rats that nibble on the dead, the mud and muddier waters that reach his knees some days, the idea that death is no longer an idea but simply a German bullet with your name on it. When she learns he has been sent to the Somme and she hears nothing from him for months, she’s convinced his bullet has found him and the grief of losing her brother and her husband in the same season will kill her too. The Somme is brutal, almost twenty thousands British soldiers die on the first day. Sleep evades Marion for weeks upon hearing the figures. Her dreams are plagued with the image of Will lying dead in a mountain of corpses. 

It’s early November when she receives a letter from him. After three months of silence and sickening anxiety she rips it open and greedily consumes his words. It’s short and straight to the point and leaves her so weak with relief it brings her to knees.

_I hope I didn’t worry you,_ he tells her, _but somehow, I’m alive._

In response, she sends him a photograph of herself and another of her daughters and on the back she writes, _come back to us x._

She worries he has no one in the Front, that all his friends perished in the Somme and now he faces the war alone. She hopes the photographs will remind him he has his family waiting for him. 

It’s a week or two after the new year celebrations when Will writes to her again. Cora and Charlotte are practicing their crochet in the loveseat of the huge bay windows. Marion sits in the salon with a cup of tea in one hand and his letter in the other. This one is different. He mentions a name in this one, a new recruit called Blake. 

_Blake has a special talent for map reading,_ Will tells her with an energy she has never felt before, _it’s propelled him to being a lance corporal which is quite impressive since he only joined two months ago._

Will rarely mentions other soldiers in his letters and if he does, it’s no more than a vague reference. 

_He told me the funniest story about one of our corporals, I don’t have time to tell you it now but I will when I return._

Her heart swells. Will has never mentioned returning home in any of his letters. She was worried he had resigned himself to dying in battle but upon meeting this Blake it seems he has considered coming home. She reads on, her smile widening as Will tells her more about Blake’s excellent map reading skills.

**t h r e e**

Marion tries not to eavesdrop, she really does but she has always been a curious woman. She presses her ear against the door as she strains to hear Will on other side. He has been on the phone to Tom in Lawrence’s old study for the last hour and he shows no signs of coming out. He practically shot down the stairs when Marion told him Tom was on the phone for him. Tom was meant to come down to London yesterday for a week-long visit but he never turned up. Will has spent the last twenty-four hours pacing around, more distressed than ever, asking about Tom’s whereabouts. 

“I don’t care,” Will says, his voice sounds muffled through the door, “I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Admittedly, Marion was looking forward to seeing Tom. She has come to enjoy his company, especially his optimism and his bright wit that reminds her so much of Lawrence.She wouldn’t say it out loud but she hoped Joe would have joined Tom on his visit, he normally does and as Will and Tom go off on their own, Joe will often take her out for long walks or high tea. It has been a while since she felt lighter than air and Joe breathes peace into her with every glance he sends her way. Marion presses her ear closer to the door and she just catches Will’s rushed goodbye before footsteps approach the door. Marion darts down the hallway and into the salon. Will finds her pretending to rearrange the books. 

“I need to borrow the car,” he tells her.

She flips the random book she just picked up shut and turns on her heel to face Will. The worry etching across his face makes her freeze. 

“Will, what’s wrong?” She asks.

“Tom’s sick,” he says, “that’s why he didn’t come down.”

Her hand goes to her chest, “oh my — will he be okay?”

Will shakes his head, “I don’t know, I think he’s got the flu. Look, I need to go see him, can I take the car? I’ll bring drive it back tomorrow, I just…” he swallows, “I need to see him, Marion.”

There’s a note of fear in his voice that raises the hairs on the back of her neck. She recognises it, it is the same brand of fear she had when the letter informing her of Lawrence’s death arrived. 

“You…you want to go now?” She asks him. 

He nods, “yes, where are the keys?”

“But it’s already dark out and the chef is about to serve supper,” she tells him, “why don’t you go in the morning? It’ll be safer then and Essex is such a long drive—”

“Marion, please,” he steps forward, his eyebrows pinched together, “I need to see him. I need to make sure he’s okay. You can either lend me the car or I can cycle there myself.”

She doesn’t know how but he became more stubborn in the war. 

She sighs, “fine, the keys are with Mrs. Earwood.”

“Thank you,” he breathes, his shoulder sagging in relief, “where is she?”

“In the attic,” she says, “you can take the Ford, it’s the fastest but…be careful, Will!”

He’s already out of the door and running upstairs to find Mrs. Earwood. Once he has the keys, he’s in the car and driving off within minutes. And as she watches the car disappear down the road, she finds herself wondering, not for the first time, exactly who Thomas Blake is to her brother to send him in such a panicked state.Will doesn’t return with the car the next day but to her pleasant surprise, Joe does. He leaves the car with the valet and greets Marion with a polite kiss to her gloved hand. He looks particularly handsome today. She fights off a blush and invites him for tea. 

“Will decided to stay for a few days to take care of Tom,” Joe tells her as Katherine, the curly-haired kitchen maid, slides a slice of sponge cake onto his plate. “Honestly, he’s more fretful than my mother. It’s Tom, I feel sorry for, having those two hover over him all day.”

Marion laughs and takes a sip of her tea. “I do hope Tom recovers quickly, Will had me quite worried.”

“Oh, Tom will right as rain in no time,” Joe says with a light chuckle, “he’s stronger than he looks.”

“Good, good,” she says, letting silence settle between them for a few seconds before she continues, “now you’ve brought the car back…” she hopes it comes out nonchalant but she doubts it, “will you be leaving then?”

He pauses, then clears his throat, “well, I was hoping to stay in London for a couple of days, at least until Will is back. I’ve been meaning to have a proper tour of London since the war ended. I can get a room in a bed and breakfast—”

“Nonsense,” she says, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief, “you can stay in the guest room. Will and I were born and raised in London, I can give you a perfect tour of the city tomorrow afternoon.”

Joe’s answering smile warms her more than the tea.

**f o u r**

As children, Marion and Will grew up playing backgammon with their father. Edmund Schofield was a master of the game and he passed all his tips and tricks onto them before he passed. Sometimes, she feels thankful their parents passed years before the war broke out. She doubts either of them could handle the heartbreak of sending Will off to fight. 

The point is Marion and Will are undefeated when it comes to backgammon. Many have tried and many have failed. It’s a fifty-fifty split in winning when Marion and Will play against each other. Will’s style is vigilant and ever so patient, she can see him map out all of the possible outcomes whenever he makes a move. Marion likes to think her style is more instinctual and calculating, moving too slow allow the enemies to study you closer. Like their father liked to remind them, you must be quick and each move must be precise. Every strike against your opponent must strike their weakest point. 

After breakfast, on Saturday mornings, Marion and Will sit in Lawrence’s old study and play a few rounds of backgammon. Whenever Tom visits he sits in the plush, leather chair in the corner where he half-reads and half-watches them play. One day, when Will and Joe have taken her daughters out to see a play in Central London, Tom approaches Marion with a shy yet endearing smile. 

Marion is busy brainstorming ideas for the menu with Mrs. Earwood for the upcoming dinner party. Marion sees Tom hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning on his cane with both hands. She wants to ask how he came to use that cane but the question feels rude and intrusive. She keeps waiting for it to come up naturally in conversation but none of them speak of the war. She could ask Will but she doesn’t like the look in his eyes whenever he’s reminded of it. He seems to disappear inside himself and it leaves her wondering which battle he’s reliving. 

Marion dismisses Mrs. Earwood with a _thank you_ and reminds her to order meat pies for the dinner as it would be a perfect main before turning to Tom with a smile. 

“Good afternoon, love,” she says to him, “are you well?”

He clears his throat as he nods, “yes, yes, I was just…” he glances away then meets her gaze with that endearing smile, “I was wondering if you could teach me how to play backgammon. I see you and Scho play it all the time and I was curious, you don’t have to, I know you’re busy…”

_Scho._ Her brother’s nickname from the war. It delights her to know he had close friends to seehim through those cruel years. Although, she often wonders if _friends_ is the appropriate label for Will and Tom’s relationship. _Brothers_ isn’t accurate either, their relationship seems to span past such labels. 

“I’d happy to teach you,” she says, “but don’t you want to learn from Will? He’s a far better teacher than me, he taught Cora and Charlotte.”

Its Will’s gentle nature and his eternal patience that makes him such a good teacher.Marion has considered hiring him as Cora and Charlotte’s tutor but he’s busy working as a correspondent for the local paper. 

Tom’s cheeks redden at the mention of Will’s name. He shakes his head, “no, I wanted it to be a surprise. I’d like to play with Scho.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” she says with a smile, before glancing at her wristwatch, “I have a Suffragette’s meeting in twenty minutes so I must head off but we can start when I get back?”

Tom nods, “yes, that’s perfect, thank you.”

It’s a short meeting with Emmeline proposing the idea of marching to Buckingham Palace again as she’s convinced she can make it to the King this time. Marion tells them to consider other avenues, such as endorsing Nancy to take a seat in the Houses of Common. It would be monumental for the movement as Nancy would be the first female member of parliament. Upon her return, Marion tells Tom to join her in Lawrence’s old study where she begins teaching him backgammon. 

He’s a quick learner, picking up the rules with ease and by the time Will and Joe return with her daughters, Marion and Tom are engaged in a proper game. She wins each round but she reckons he could win one day with consistent practice. 

“Marion?” Will shouts from the hallway. 

Tom’s eyes widen as he scrambles to put the game away. 

“I want it to be a surprise when I ask him to play,” Tom explains, shoving everything back into the box. 

Marion giggles, “I know.”

His cane drops in the hurry to put everything away. Marion picks it up for him, he takes it with a kind smile. 

“Explosive bullet,” he tells her, noticing her gaze linger on the cane.

“Pardon?” She says, feeling a little embarrassed from being caught out. 

“It was an explosive bullet in the Battle of Passenchedaele,” Tom says, “Scho extracted it then and there on the battlefield and wrapped it in a tourniquet with a stick and parts of his jacket he ripped off. I would have lost my leg and my life if he hadn’t acted so quickly.” Something she can’t quite name, something like yearning or affection flickers in his cornflower blue eyes, “He was always saving my life.”

Marion looks at him, a melancholy feeling forms as a lump in her throat. Cora and Charlotte barge into the study with Will and Joe following closely behind. 

“How was the play, my loves?” She asks her daughters as they circle around her.

Cora beams, “it was amazing, mama!”

Charlotte pouts, “boring!” She looks up at her, “Uncle fell asleep, he found it boring too!”

Will sputters as he tries to deny it and Marion laughs. 

A week or two later, Marion is telling the gardener which flowers she would like in each of the rooms, when she looks up and sees Tom and Will in the arched window of the study. The backgammon is set between them as they play. Marion smiles and turns back to the gardener. 

**f i v e**

Tom and Joe moved to London in the new year. Joe got himself a job in a bank as an accountant and Marion pulled some strings to get Tom a job as a cashier at the supermarket. They move into a two bedroom apartment in Victoria, about a twenty minute walk from Marion’s home in Kensington. Will lives with her and the twins, mostly because Marion insisted he did the moment he returned to London. Will spends half his time at Marion’s and the other half at Tom and Joe’s place. Marion visits them often, not as often as Will who is there at least three times a week, some nights he calls the house phone and tells Marion he’s staying over. 

On this particular day, a cloudy Tuesday in March, Marion leaves Cora and Charlotte with the nanny to spend the afternoon at Tom and Joe’s. She pauses by the door to let Will knock but to her surprise, he simply takes out a key from his jacket pocket and opens the door.

She blinks up at him, “you…have a key?”

“Yeah,” Will answers with a shrug, “I’m here quite a bit, Tom gave it to me.”

Speaking of Tom, he’s asleep on the sofa with an open book on his chest when they step into the apartment. Marion doesn’t miss the fond smile that pulls at Will’s lips as he approaches Tom. He mumbles something to himself before bending down and lifting up Tom in his arms. Tom grumbles something back as his head lolls onto Will’s shoulder. Will chuckles and carries Tom to his bedroom a little down the hallway. 

She steps to the side and leans forward to peak into the room. The door has been left ajar and she watches as Will lays Tom down on the double bed. He pulls the duvet covers up to Tom’s shoulders and pauses, glancing down at Tom with the softest gaze. She has a jolt of deja-vu then, of Lawrence sending that look her way on their wedding day, of Joe sending that her look whenever he visits her. The ache in her heart returns and for the umpteenth time, she ponders the exact nature of her brother’s relationship with Thomas Blake. Will brushes loose dark curls off Tom’s forehead and Marion has the sudden urge to look away, the moment feels too intimate. Will turns away from Tom and goes over to the curtains, he closes them and blocks out the bright afternoon light. 

Marion quickly rushes back to where she stood by the door as Will walks back into the living room. 

“Joe should be finished at the bank by now,” he says, “he’ll be in here in fifteen minutes. The bank isn’t far.”

“Oh, uh,” Marion nods. She puts on a smile, “great.”

**\+ o n e**

At the end of spring, Tom and Joe invite Will, Marion and her daughters to spend the week at their farmhouse in Essex. It’s a beautiful farm, an elaborate stone house covered in vines and flowers, rolling green hills, acres and acres of cherry trees. 

Despite growing up on a farm, Joe is a late sleeper. She wakes to find him still snoozing against her. She turns onto her side to face him and he seems to sense the change because he smiles and snuggles closer to her. He presses a soft kiss to her neck, making her pulse jump. 

“Morning, darling,” He mumbles against her skin, his voice has that attractive rough edge in the mornings. 

She giggles, feeling light, like a petal in the wind, “Morning, my love.”

He tries to convince to stay in bed longer, he almost does when he presses her into the mattress and kisses her so deeply, sweetly every thought in mind scatters away. She pinches his side, laughing when he yelps and she rolls out of bed.

“The day has started, Joe,” she tells him, grabbing a fluffy robe from the wardrobe and wrapping it around herself, “get up please, you said we could go cherry picking with the girls this morning.”

He waves a hand in acknowledgement, she rolls her eyes and walks out of the room. She knocks on Cora and Charlotte’s room on the way to the stairs. 

“Rise and shine, girls!” She calls as she hops down the stairs. 

She hears faint chatter coming from the kitchen. Marion slowly approaches the door and pauses by it when she sees Tom and Will are chopping vegetables on the counter. They stand side by side,dressed in matching blue aprons, their shoulders brushing and their expressions warm and bright as they talk softly to another. They are too entranced by each other’s company to notice Marion in the doorway. Will cuts off a few slices of cucumber, he picks one up and slides it into Tom’s parted mouth. He pushes his thumb between Tom’s lips, his eyes flutter shut and leans he downs for a slow kiss. Tom hums and wraps his arms around Will’s neck. 

The sight should shock her but oddly enough it doesn’t. It makes sense and suddenly the mystery of Will and Tom’s relationship reveals itself. It is deep, irrevocable love, the kind of love that led Paris to wage war for Helen, the kind she felt for Lawrence, the kind she feels for Joe now. In the midst of war, Will and Tom found love and peace with each other. 

Tom lets out a breath of giddy laughter when they pull apart. Will smiles, he opens his eyes and looks up. His smile falls when sees Marion. Tom feels his discomfort and turns around to see Marion as well. They stare at her with wide eyes and Marion looks back with a soft smile. Bless them.

Will and Tom step forward. Will says, “Marion, we — we, um…we…”

“Will,” she says, placing a hand on his shoulder when she reaches them, “can I tell you something?”

He glances at Tom, then back to Marion and nods, “s—sure.”

“Well,” she licks her lips and clasps her hands together, “Joe proposed.”

Will’s eyebrows rise as Tom says, “what? When?”

“Last night after dinner, he took me a little walk through orchard and well,” she grins, “he proposed and I said, yes!”

Tom breaks out into a bright grin, “that’s brilliant! Congratulations Marion!”

Marion looks at Will, who looks back at her with the warmest smile. She swallows, “are you happy for me, Will?”

He steps forward and holds her hand in his, his voice is gentle, “of course, I am. I’m happy so for you, Marion.”

Warmth spreads through her as she looks up at him. She smiles, “and I’m happy for you too.”

Will frowns, confusing playing across his face, “what?”

She looks at Tom and then Will, who seems to slowly understand her meaning as his mouth starts to part. She cuts him off, “I’m happy for you and Tom. I just wanted you to know that. I hope one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to be yourselves around me and Joe. We do love you both.”

She realises Joe must have known all this time. He didn’t say anything to protect them and she loves him ever more for it. 

Will seems to swallow the lump in his throat and Tom’s eyes glisten with tears. Tom takes Will’s hand and intertwines their fingers together. He smiles at Marion as he says, “would you like to help us make breakfast?”

Marion claps her hands and grins, “I would love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> these babes deserve the softest post war life idc idc


End file.
